


One Minute, Forty-Nine Seconds

by Eberesche



Category: Torchwood
Genre: Can we get an F in the chat for Ianto, Canonical Character Death, Episode: s03e04 Children of Earth - Day 4, M/M, POV First Person, POV Ianto Jones, Present Tense
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-23
Updated: 2020-07-23
Packaged: 2021-03-04 23:53:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 662
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25474933
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Eberesche/pseuds/Eberesche
Summary: The truth is as cold as the floor as I hit it. We knew it would end like this, even if we tried to pretend it wouldn’t; and God knows I did.
Relationships: Jack Harkness/Ianto Jones
Comments: 6
Kudos: 21





	One Minute, Forty-Nine Seconds

“We've got to get you out of here. I can survive anything, but you can't,” he says, but he knows as well as I do that this is it. My head’s already swimming, and I can feel my chest tightening with every breath.

“Too late,” I can’t even look him in the eyes, even as he’s grabbing me “I breathed the air.”

“There's got to be something. There's got to be an antidote!” he’s yelling now – maybe even _pleading_.

My legs give out, and the truth is as cold as the floor as I hit it. We knew it would end like this, even if we tried to pretend it wouldn’t; and God knows I did. Except now it’s much worse. Now, I’m looking into his eyes as he holds me and I know one thing for a fact. He’s never going to see me again. In a way, it feels like that’s killing me faster than the virus. I can’t ever make him smile again, can’t ever hold him again. I’m dying in Jack’s arms, and there’s no reset, no glove, no second chance.

“It's all my fault,” he tells me.

“No, it's not,” I reply. Even if it’s the last thing I do, I have to make sure he understands that. There was nothing anyone could’ve done.

“Don't speak. Save your breath.” It’s useless, and he knows it. I’m dying, whether I talk or not. Only, one way might take a few seconds longer. But, that’s precisely it. Jack has forever and I only have the next minute or so. Even a second more with me is like stardust to him. Because then that’s it. I’ll dissipate like a cloud, and he’ll move on. Everything we had will be gone, every memory lost.

I feel like I’m drowning, even as I breathe. Not long now. What was the last thing I said to Rhi? To Gwen?

I decide I have to tell him. I have to stop being fucking pathetic and say those three words. There’s no ‘ _before it’s too late_ ’ anymore. This _is_ too late, and now it’s time. I won’t die without him knowing.

The words burn as they come out. “I love you.”

“Don't,” is the reply. Don’t speak? Don’t tell him? Don’t _love_ him? I’m lapsing in and out of consciousness now. I’ve got seconds. He’s shaking me, hanging onto me like I’m the only thing left in the world. Maybe I am. He’s dying too. Maybe I’m the only thing he can feel?

“Stay with me,” he’s saying, his voice just as choked as mine “Stay with me, please.”

“Hey. It was good, yeah?” I ask. I don’t notice the fear in my voice until the words are said. Some part of me still doubts what we have, even as we die together.

“Yeah.”

“Don't forget me,” I sob. I know I’m not the first of his lovers, and I know I’m most definitely not the last. Am I being selfish, asking him to remember?

“Never could,” he states, with all the certainty of a promise.

“A thousand year's time you won't remember me,” I tell him. It’s a promise too, but I don’t suppose he gets to choose whether he keeps it or not.

“Yes, I will. I promise. I will.”

Oh, God. It’s really a promise. Jack always keeps his promises. I wish I could’ve. I wish I could’ve promised to stay with him forever, and kept it. But it’s too late. I’m taking my last breath, while he never will.

My lungs fail, and I feel the dark wrapping around me. It’s like he’s told me so many times. It’s warmth, but not like the burning pain that’s slowly ebbing away. No, it’s like the warmth of a log burner on a cold day, or a hot shower on aching muscles. It’s like the warmth of his smile. Like the warmth of his body against mine. Of every kiss. Of every touch.

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first post here, and also a huge experiment. I’m only just getting started with writing for fun, but so far I’m really enjoying it! Hopefully I’ll post more on here eventually. In the meantime, have a lovely day!


End file.
